I've been writing...um...sun-bathing and here is the result:

Since it's still wonderful weather in London, I took my laptop on the roof park today and continued with the sequel to No Wings Attached. To update you: I'm about 54k into the novel and plan on roughly 70/72k. Might well be more, I never know since my characters love to take over. 

A little insight:

Sam is Adam's best friend, who's offered to train her. They need to do that in secrecy and it's the first time she's actually alone with him. Totally alone and exposed...

Like last night, I sneak out the bedroom on silent soles. My feet patting on the cool tiles, I walk over into the kitchen area to put on my clothes. Again, doubts creep up on me and I wonder why the hell I've agreed to this, but another quick look at my friend who's fast asleep, reminds me how vulnerable she is, just by being human, brushing them away. I need to make sure she, and everyone around me, is safe. When I pull the door to our apartment quietly close, a sense of wickedness follows me, through the reception area, across the street and right into the bar. Sam jumps into a stand as soon as he sees me and waves, seemingly relieved that I came. Casually, I walk over and nod. The wickedness has been replaced by nervousness, but I'm here now, so I might as well go through with it. He would've had killed you already if he wanted to. How many times do I have to tell myself that? It's not the best sign. Stop being such a baby, Celia!

“Hey, lass. Glad you finally decided to show up.”

I snort. “I'm not alone here, remember?”

He holds up his hand and I immediately take a step back, my heart pounding fast. Sam grins, shakes his head and lowers his hand in an instant. “You really need to work on your trust issues, lass.”

“Don't make me regret leaving my comfy bed.” I stare at him, challenging.

“Calm down, Celia. Seriously, you need to learn how to get your temper under control.”

“Thought that's what you're going to teach me.”

He leaves ten-Euro-note on the bar, says something in Spanish to the girl behind it and beckons me outside. I follow, still filled with mixed emotions.

“Psst, Celia, over here,” he whispers.

I turn and can just about make him out at the side of the house, half-hidden by a hedge. Okay. Now or never!I draw a shaky breath and step into the shadow.

“Ready?” He holds out his hand.

Taking it, I'm only able to nod and seconds later it goes dark. When I feel solid ground under my feet again, I nearly choke at the stench.

“Gross! Did you have to bring me here?”

“Sorry, roses don't grow in these places.”

I cough again, then realise that – unlike last time – the cave is lit by thick white candles, flickering at our arrival. A few smaller ones are on the ground and six bigger ones are placed in cavities in the wall.

“If it wouldn't stink this much, it would be almost romantic,” I say.

“Don't get your hopes up.” Sam grins.

“You need to learn when someone is ironic.”

He laughs. “Hey, irony is my middle name.”

I just snort. The doubts begin to niggle again. How stupid of me, if something happens, nobody could even track me down here. Angry tears shoot into my eyes. How could I be so thoughtless. At least I told Tom I loved him when we spoke earlier. A part of me wishes I had explained my plans to him, the other part is glad I didn't. But what about Emily? She'd be worried sick, waking up to an empty bed and when she can't find me anywhere.

Without any warning, blue light balls hiss around me, only missing me just about, crashing into the walls with enough force to send some pieces of rock falling. Deja vu. I knew it! I duck and throw my arms around my head in panic. A few seconds pass, the only sound is the rubble raining down around me like hale on a winter's night. I lift my head.

“Are you out of your mind?” I shout. My thoughts are racing. I knew I couldn't trust him. Arsehole!But what can I do now? I'm so sorry, Tom. I love you.

He stands across me, casually leaning against a big rock, grinning and before I can say anything else, another streams of blue balls crash into the wall behind me. My heart thuds; I can hear the blood rushing in my ears and I feel sick. Was it all a trick, part of a plan to eliminate me? Would be typical for me. I draw bad luck to me like manure the flies.

“Sam! Stop, please!” My begging is muffled by the thunder of the next light balls hitting the ground hard. Smoke makes it impossible to see him; he must have aimed at the small water pond. His laugh echoes around the cave. I press myself against the wet stones, barely able to prevent them from giving in.

Aren't I supposed to see my whole life passing before my eyes?I'm scared and wonder if I will make it out of here alive. I look up and try to make out where he is, but can't. I know he won't be able to see me through the smoke either, so I remain silent. Waiting. Breathing heavily.

“Come on, lass. Is that all you've got to give?”

The familiar hissing sound and another blue light balls emerges from the smoke, coming directly at me. It's too late for me to duck and, in reflex, I hold up both of my hands, palm toward him. The tingling sensation I had when Boldie attacked me, reappears and the ball dances in the air. The smoke clears up, leaving a fine mist on my exposed arms and face. Desperately, I think of how to get out of this situation, to defy Sam all he while I'm trying to keep up with the pressure against my hands. He's not changed his position, his relaxed smile, though, has disappeared. I concentrate on the dancing ball again, keeping it away for a bit longer, but I feel my strength is weakening. Suddenly, it explodes and is replaced by the beautiful firework I saw last time. I stare at it, fascinated but wary. I'm still alive, that's got to count for something.

With a smug grin Sam says, “Lesson one. Be prepared at all times.”

“You are an arsehole, you know that?” My voice is hoarse. I'm shaking violently, partly from the adrenaline, partly from the relief that rushes through me.

“Sorry, lass, I needed to provoke you to tickle your defence mechanisms and it's worked. It always does.” He relaxes, hangs his arms. “Those people who are after you won't miss, they'll hit you with full force. No mercy. And the sooner you learn to react quickly, the better. I guess I've demonstrated how important it is.”

I glare at him. “Are you doing that with all of your trainees?”

He nods. “Afraid so.”

I don't know what else to say, still shaking and furious about his attack, I brush off my clothes which are full of dust, when he lifts his hands, a blue ball hovering over each. I stiffen again. Go on, then. Do it! Anger rises in me. He knows he's much stronger than I am and it annoys me. And he can do whatever he wants, I'd not be able to defend myself, especially not if I'm not prepared. I thought he'll teach me slowly, how to produce those balls myself, how to jump maybe, but no, he's just having fun taking the piss. Not with me!I collect myself and push my palms in his direction as if to try to open a door which is stuck. The blue ball hovering over his left hand smashes into the wall behind him. Leaving Sam with a rather surprised face.

Satisfied with the result, I relax my pose.

“Wow. Adam said you've got some great power in you, but I didn't expect that.”

Now it's me who presents a smug smile. “Got you, eh?”

He rubs his forehead, still having the other hand stretched out, illuminating the cave into a soft blue. “Do it again.”

I nod, position myself and close my eyes, collecting all my energy and thoughts, then push my hand forward again. Nothing.

“Come on, lass. I know you can do better. I didn't feel anything.”

“Okay, give me a second.” I breathe in deeply, thinking of last time in the cave. Boldie and the other guy, of Adam and what he did to me when we first bumped into each other. I thrush my hand forward with more force, sending a rather perplexed Sam flying backwards, hitting his head hard, the ball evaporates and everything goes quiet at once.

Writng a novel - Behind the scenes

Many people have a stereotypical picture of an author in mind: busily typing away, surrounded by mess, hair dishevelled, forgetting the time - until they're finished with their manuscript.
In some cases, this might actually be the case, but in many cases - at least in my case - it looks more like this: an author staring at a blank page, looking around, thinking, a painful expression on the face, fingers hovering over the keyboard, wondering why the heck the letters won't spill onto the Word document. I will type one or two sentences, but delete them immediately when I'm not happy. I know many set themselves the tasks to write 1000 words a day. I can't do that. There are days when my characters won't let me into their heads and if I wrote on those days, I'd write utter rubbish, only to have to delete it later, which I hate. Oh I can't tell you how much I hate deleting things. Luckily it rarely happens anymore; it might need editing, but never deleting.
I wonder how others do it, writing one novel after another. I've managed to complete three books since April 2009 and am almost done with the fourth, that's not a massive amount of books, is it? I've started about seven more, but they don't count.
Currently, I'm trying to finish the sequel to No Wings Attached often fighting with myself. Should I push it for another half an hour and see what my mind comes up with? Or should I give up for today? I know it's not writer's block, it's simply my perfectionism standing in the way. Sometimes, I'll try to come up with something and one sentence leads to another, and I'll end up getting into the flow, accumulating words fast, that's the state when writing takes you to another level, when you really forget everything around you. Sadly it doesn't happen often.
To me, creating a novel is hard work. Not that I don't appreciate it - quite the contrary, but it can be the toughest job on earth if you get stuck, especially, when you, like me, plot as you go along. I wish I could be the type of person who does a detailed outline in advance, that would help a lot, but, unfortunately, I'm not. It takes me at least six months or more to finish a first draft, many think it's a piece of cake to write a compelling novel, but it's not, certainly not for me. But I'll get there in the end, so I tell myself, trying to spur me on. I know I couldn't live without writing, it's what keeps me sane, it's my outlet, my challenge. That's probably why I can put up with the pain of staring at a blank page an hour many a day, in hope that, eventually, I'll be able to ride on a wave of words again.

This is for all of you who struggle once in a while.

A home away from home

I'm back! Well, you probably didn't even notice my being away, but I've been to Germany to visit my friend Piddi and her boyfriend. Though I admit, I love my friend to bits, I think she got the impression I only came for the food I can't get in the UK. No, I'm sure she knows. I'm serious, she laughed when I told her what I wanted to do -- almost everything involved food. To be fair, I promised to cook my Teriyake-style fish and I did. The plates were empty and the satisfied grunting was enough confirmation for me that they really enjoyed it.

Now there was another 'urgent' item on my list: an original, traditional 'cult' raincoat which has the name Ostfriesennerz (East Frisian Mink). The East Frisians have been the target for bad jokes for many years, the stupid peasants (which they are not), who can't afford a proper mink, so they wear the rubber jackets. Since I'm sort of half Frisian, I'm very proud to now own one of those rare rain jackets. They have become a rather huge cult, though many wrinkle their nose just thinking about the yellow jackets (you can wear them inside out, by the way). Perfect for rainy days in the garden; all I need are some yellow/blue wellies and I'm prepared. It certainly was most suitable for the weather in Bremen, because it rained every day. 

What strikes me the most is how much I've adapted to 'being' English. Two people told me I've got a slight English accent when speaking German, which I can't imagine. I also dreamt in English, although speaking German all the time. In fact, I mixed both languages, having difficulties to translate back and forth. On the other hand, when we went to an Irish pub my friend had never been in, I immediately felt at home. English sounds much more familiar to my ears than German, even though the latter is my mother tongue. I think my brain was thoroughly confused. When I woke up this morning, I spoke German to my friend John, who stayed the night after doing house- and iguana sitting. I should mention he's really smitten by Zorro, who's behaved well, according to him.
Funnily enough, I met a guy, also called John, on the plane and when we got talking, he was surprised I'm German. He thought I'm from the north, which made me smile. John if you're reading this, thank you again for the lovely chat and for successfully diverting my thoughts from my panic attacks. Every person with fear of flying should have a John sitting next to them. :-)

The days with my friend were wonderful and now that I'm back, it means knuckling down on the writing, catching up with the backlog and, unfortunately, put up with the unbearable neighbours upstairs, who have saved the best for me.

I'm excited!

Many have already asked me for the sequel to No Wings Attached. And rightly so, because I've promised there's going to be one. After I've unfortunately missed my initital deadline due to the mishap with the first book, I was rather thrown and demotivated continuing the sequel, but since I get requests left, right and centre, I'm happy to say it's coming along well. Yesterday, I've reached 50,200 words, which means, I'll probably finish this month. Then it goes to my Beta-readers and into editing/proofing. I expect the novel to be published in December -- hopefully before Christmas.
For those of you who are waiting: you will meet Celia, Tom and Emily again, but in addition you'll be introduced to a rather hot Sam and, of course, Adam will play a bigger part, too. There will still be romance and heaps of fun, but also more paranormal in the form of fight scenes. I think I've managed to make this book work as a stand-alone novel, but it remains to be seen until new Beta-readers, those who don't know book one, get back to me saying, they are curious about the first book, but didn't miss it.

That's where you guys come into the game: if you haven't read book one and would love to read book two, please leave a comment underneath this post with your e-mail address. A book for free, being involved in the early stages and your feedback taken seriously -- what's not to like?

Here's the blurb:

Being madly in love with Tom, a rather good looking wish-consultant and working in her dream job, life seems to be perfect for 32-year-old Celia. If it wasn't for the dark side still being after her or Sam, a charismatic man asking for her help, causing dilemma. When Tom gets another demanding case, and Celia takes her friend on a trip to Lanzarote, everything's about to change. The question is: for the better or for the worse?

The first five entries will receive the book once I'm done with the first draft.

Hot-sweet fish recipe with Jasmin rice

Something I've cooked yesterday and boy did I enjoy it: light, healthy, tasty and best for everyone with only little time -- it's quick.

What you need:
Pouting, Mackerel or Whiting fillets (I try to avoid buying Cod due to the overfishing issue, plus those fishes are much cheaper as well as tasty).
Spring onions
Red chillies
Garlic
Honey
Soy Sauce
Good quality olive oil
Grated ginger

Cut spring onions, chop a red chili and garlic, grate ginger. Put the garlic aside, mix the rest with honey, soy sauce and olive oil.
Score the fish on the skin, then fry in very hot pan, skin side down, no seasoning required.
Plate up Jasmin rice, place fish on top, spoon the sauce over the fish right into the cracks, now fry the garlic briefly in the still hot pan, then put it on top of the fish. 
Also great: finish off with some toasted sesame seeds.


Now here's another tip: I'm all for using left overs. So if you have some spring onions left and you don't know what to do with them... 
Next time you go to the supermarkets, get some no-name soft cheese. Depending on how many spring onions you have, scoop some of the soft cheese into a bowl, cut the spring onions into small rings and bash them up, add to the soft cheese, season with salt and pepper, then mix. 
It tastes brilliant on French stick or as a sandwich filler, either with meat or salmon.

Another sneak peek at the sequel to No Wings Attached:

While No Wings Attached is put on hold, being currently corrected, I'm using the time to crack on with the sequel. Here's a small excerpt of Chapter Eleven, first unedited draft.  I'd love your opinions, so fire away. ;-)

I struggle and hiss, stomping and kicking in order to step on a foot of the guy whose arms are still locked around me. He curses and tightens his grip.

“Let go of me!” With as much force I can muster I knock back my head, hoping to smash his nose. Pain jolts through me.

He winces and pushes me forward. “You bitch!”

I open my eyes and see... nothing. It's dark, pitch black and it smells rank, like rotten moss, I hear water dripping, echoing from seemingly close walls. Knowing he's probably behind me, I carefully feel the ground under my feet, trying to get some more distance between us. Something wet touches my face and I bite my lip to suppress a scream, if I'm basically blind he won't be able to see either. What do I do, what do I do? What does he want? Am I allowed to use my powers to protect me? My heart thuds so heavily in my chest, I want to throw up. With my arms stretched out I inch forward.

Another curse from him. “That fucking bitch got my lip. It's bleeding.”

“Where is she now?” a second voice asks.

“Don't know, we'll find out in a second.”

I stop and try to breathe as calmly as I can. Suddenly, a blue light flashes past me, crushing into the rocks before me; instinctively, I duck and wrap my arms around my head. The dark force!

“There! Darian, now!”

I throw myself flat onto the floor and in hope they will aim to the left, I roll to the right, squeezing my eyes shut. From what I can hear, another blue light ball hisses over me and the sound of pieces of the rock wall falling on the ground echoes through the cave. I blink and hastily crawl further to the right.

“One more time,” whisper under my breath. I'm furious and willing to fight back, “go on, only one more time.”

Again, I'm blinded and quickly looking to the side, I stretch our my hands, palms up. Oh, please let it work, I don't want to die!

The blue ball dances in the air, illuminating the place. As I suspected, it's small and water runs along the walls. I turn to my kidnappers and gasp. The bold guy! A much smaller figure stands next to him, legs apart, hands stemmed in the side, glaring at me. I could swear I've seen him before, but I can't remember where. At the club, when Sam was there?

“You?” I address the bold guy. “What do you want from me?”

He watches the blue ball's dancing. “Just playing a bit. Thought you might like that.”

I continue to stare at him. The tingling in my hands and the pressure on them stops and the ball explodes, leaving a mini firework behind. For moment I freeze and lock eyes again with the bold guy. With one quick move of his hand another blue ball appears in the palm of his hand and before I can react, he throws it in my direction. The pressure is much stronger and I can't hold against it.

“Please, stop! What have I done to you?” My voice breaks off at the end of the question and I have both, fear and fury raging in me. I'm going to die!

“Stop!” a third voice barks, followed by a stream of orange-red light directed at the two other guys. They try to fight back, but the figure now stepping in front of me is far too strong for them. I recognise the long leather coat and heavy boots. Sam?

Living with and looking after a big alpha male iguana

It's now been four months since my big boy went into mating season and there's still no end in sight. I've been to the vet a few times. Luckily there wasn't an operation necessary, but his nose is still rather battered. Poor sod. He's also lost a lot of weight, but I watched him closely. You can tell they are underweight when the bones at the beginning of the tail, right over the legs, start to show or when the tail itself loses its strength. (See pictures left and right which show a healthy iguana)
I know my animal well and he's been active, still likes his snacks (blueberries, raspberries and bananas), so I wasn't too concerned. I provide fresh food for him several times a day. They won't touch old and wilted food, understandable, you wouldn't eat the stuff that has been sitting on the plate, in the warmth of your kitchen either, would you? Though, he has started to get his appetite back, which is a good thing, so I throw away less.
I also make sure he has fresh water daily (throughout the year), spray his enclosure regularly and he licks the water from the surface or directly from the sprayer.

His nose, though, is still swollen from jumping against the glass. I've covered the glass with an old sheet from inside, so he doesn't see his reflection anymore and he is much calmer. His lower jaw, as you can see in the picture to the left, is not healing as I'd like it to. If possible, I dab it gently with a self-made saline solution (Sea salt/Water), which disinfects and dries out, helping the process.
The best time to do it, is when he sleeps. Iguanas are rather sound sleepers. He'll half-wake and head-bob at me, even with his eyes closed.
Snout injuries are very difficult to treat, especially if the iguana is still in mating season and aggressive. I have found that he's reacting calmly if I wear a towel wrapped around my hair, like after having a shower. Then he won't attack me. Yesterday, though, it came off and a second later, he charged. He's a very weird little dragon. I spoke to the vet and will try a hormone-implant next year, before season starts and hope that'll calm him down. If that works I'll go for neutering. It's my last hope to be able to keep him as I've promise him and the old owners. If it doesn't help, I have no chance but to give him away, because it would be animal cruelty to keep him when he ends up injured. Unfortunately, the pet insurance won't pay for neither, the implant, nor the op, but if it helps him, it would help me. What's the point of having a beautiful animal like that when you can't even see him behind all the covers, or only when you wear a towel around your head?

Finally some head-bobbing action I've recorded today. He's a real alpha male and will do it every time he moves. His muscles are so strong, I can't hold his head still if he does it. Just to give you an idea.